Hi, it’s Nick here. Last week, Allie came out to visit me in San Carlos. She’s planning on moving out to the San Francisco Bay Area in August. It’s an exciting but stressful time for us. Fortunately, Allie managed to secure a couple of job offers, and potentially, even a place to live. Things aren’t set in stone yet, but we’re more or less sure Allie will be able to move out here, which means we can slowly shift our focus towards Yosemite. Allie and I are strategizing about how many trips we will take and about which climbs we will tackle. We may end up loosely basing our schedule around Chris McNamara’s book, Road to the Nose.
Now, we have dates and a destination—Yosemite and the Tuolumne area—for our first trip. After Allie drives out to the Bay Area in August, we will squeeze in a trip before she starts working. Our first trip will be more of a training trip than a performance-oriented trip. We will work on our skills and our systems, but mostly, we will get used to working with each other on the rock again. In climbing, as in every team sport, it’s important to practice together to develop better teamwork. We might try some of the shorter routes near the base of El Capitan or other short aid climbs in the valley. For non-climbers, aiding involves clipping aiders, ladders made of nylon, to pieces of gear to gradually move upward. In aid climbing, you directly rely on your gear to make upward progress, as if you’re creating your own staircase. In free climbing, another climbing discipline, you only use gear to catch you in the event of a fall. It’s been a year since I last led an aid pitch. At first, I will need to climb at a little slower pace to get my “aid head” back.
After our first trip in August, we plan on attempting Washington Column again. Last summer, on our first attempt, we made every possible mistake. We brought too much stuff and started too late. Then, we couldn’t even find the start of the route. Once we started climbing, our hauling situation was inefficient at best and downhill at worst. In total, we spent two nights getting half way up a one-night climb. It was humbling to get our asses handed to us by a piece of rock, but our experience on Washington Column opened up the world of big wall climbing. Big wall climbing involves spending multiple days in the vertical with nights spent sleeping on a ledge or portaledge. Portaledges are platforms climbers carry with them and construct on the wall. In spite of all of our mistakes, Allie and I managed to sleep on Dinner Ledge, a plush ledge on Washington Column. We were in awe. Across the valley, we could see other climber’s headlamps. Below us, we could hear the bustle of tourists removed from us by only a couple thousand feet as the crow flies, or more accurately, as the stone drops. Much more importantly, we were separated by years of practice, imagination, and the guts to try. Big wall climbing means looking up at an impossibly big face and deciding to make it possible. Everyone needs something like big wall climbing in their lives, something they love, something they’re willing to risk everything for. In the fall, Allie and I will try Washington Column again, and with the right combination of hard work, skill, and good weather, we will succeed.